A Tomorrow To Believe In
by Kadi219
Summary: Just a Shandy one-shot that takes place post S5E07: Moral Hazard, but without specific spoilers post Episode 3. Rusty and Andy discuss his biological mother and Rusty's concerns about her sobriety and unborn child.


**A Tomorrow to Believe In**

 **By Kadi**  
 **Rated K+**

 **Disclaimer:** This is not my sandbox, I just like to play in it occasionally.

 **A/N:** The muse is mostly absent these days. He stopped by this evening to play. The title was a joint effort with the twin, **kate04**. Thanks darling!

* * *

"What if it happens again?"

Andy looked up, less surprised at the presence of the person asking the question than at the actual question itself. He looked around the interior of the condo before his attention landed on the individual addressing him. His hands had stalled their activity, but he looked down again and went back to tossing the hastily thrown together salad. Traffic and a dinner order that had taken entirely too long made him late. Andy couldn't wait until he was no longer making the drive in from Valencia just to spend a few hours with the woman that he loved. And her son too, apparently. When he arrived it was to an apologetic smile and a quick explanation from Sharon that Rusty's date had been cancelled and he would be having dinner with them. There was plenty enough to go around, that wasn't a problem. While Sharon had walked down the hall to take a call from Emily, Andy slipped into the kitchen to finish tossing together the salad that she began.

The kid was in his room when he arrived. At some point in the intervening minutes, the kid had emerged. Andy wasn't entirely sure at what he was getting at. So he arched a brow at him in askance. "What if _what_ happens again?"

Rusty shifted impatiently and leaned against the opposite side of the bar. He sighed and only narrowly avoided rolling his eyes. "What if she starts drinking again? Or using drugs? Or…" He waved his hand through the air in an indication of everything that his biological mother had ever done that was wrong and had led them to this moment.

"Ah." Andy didn't say anything else. He lifted the bowl and carried it to the table. He didn't have to ask which _she_ that he was talking about. The kid hadn't been talking about any other for the last few months. It was starting to get a little old, but Andy was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. They all were. Rusty had a unique perspective that few could really claim to get. They could all be empathetic, even sympathetic, but they hadn't lived it. Andy sighed. He cast a look toward the hall. There was no sign of Sharon. Of course not. He was on his own with this one. He turned where he stood and braced a hand against the back of one of the dining chairs as he faced the kid. "Then it happens," he said plainly. It wasn't the answer the kid wanted, but he had a feeling that was why Rusty had come to him. He was the last one in what he knew was a long list of advisors that Rusty had sought out to tell him that he was right to insist that his other mother give her unborn child up for adoption. "It happens or it doesn't, Rusty. There's nothing that you can do to predict it or stop it. It just happens."

It was definitely what he didn't want to hear, but at the same time, Rusty was nodding. That was what he thought. Why couldn't anyone else see that? Why couldn't Gus or Sharon, or _anyone_ see that he was just trying to save this baby a whole lot of doubt, trouble, and pain? It all started out great in the beginning, if anyone knew that _he_ did, but at some point it would stop, and it would just be a train wreck of massive proportions. "So she should give the baby to Gary's parents," Rusty said. He squinted at the older man as he said it. It was posed as more of a statement than a question.

"I didn't say that." Andy walked past him and back into the kitchen. He picked up a pitcher of water and three glasses and carried them back to the table. "That's not my choice. It's not yours either," he pointed out, and cast a knowing look at the kid. He knew that Sharon had been over this with the boy until she was blue in the face.

This time Rusty did roll his eyes. "But you just said—"

"I said that if your mother falls off the wagon, then it happens. That's all." Andy moved around the table as he worked at setting it. "No one goes into recovery saying that they'll never drink or use again," he said. "That's not how it works, Rusty." This was something that they had talked about too, when his biological mother first came back into his life and entered rehab.

"Then what's the point?" Rusty threw his hands up. He waved one of them at the older man. "That's what you did." Hadn't he been sober for something like a million years? How many times has Sharon told him over the last year that she trusted Andy's commitment to his sobriety implicitly?

Andy snorted quietly. "Listen, Rusty…" He straightened and faced the kid again. "I'm really touched that you think so, but there's nothing about any of it that is infalliable. Being sober isn't just something that you do. It's something you work at. Every day and it doesn't matter if you've been doing it a week, a year, or twenty years, you still have to work at it." He paused for a moment and shrugged. "I still have to work at it."

"Yeah but…"

"No." Andy walked around him. He stepped into the kitchen and lifted a trio of plates. He paused as he stepped back into the dining room. "You think there hasn't been a day in the last twenty years that I haven't wanted a drink? Rusty…" He sighed. Andy shook his head. He looked away for a moment. His jaw clenched. He didn't talk about this with a lot of people. His AA group and his sponsor that was it; he didn't even talk about it with Sharon. Andy walked around where the kid stood between him and the table and placed the plates on the surface. He turned around and folded his arms across his chest. "Last week I wanted a drink so bad that I could almost taste it, and I knew that I would drive by any number of liquor stores on my way home. All I had to do was pull in to one of them, just one of them, and I could spend the rest of the night not giving a damn about anything." He shrugged as he spoke. "Not because I was having a bad day, or because it was a bad case. I didn't fight with Sharon, and my ex-wife wasn't on my case. I just wanted a drink. I'm an alcoholic, and because I'm an alcoholic, I didn't think about swinging into a bar with the boys and having that one drink. I thought about buying a bottle and falling into it."

Rusty stared at him, too stunned at first to speak. He never considered that the Lieutenant had thoughts like that. He had never seen him drink, and there had been wine, and beer, and a number of other things around at several gatherings that they had all been to over the years. Never once had it crossed his mind that the Lieutenant might want to partake of what was surrounding him. He thought of him in terms of being sober, not being a user, like his biological mother. "But you didn't," he said carefully, part of him wondering if this was some attempt at a confession on the other man's part. His eyes darted toward the hall, even as his palms began to feel damp. Where was Sharon? Did she know?

"No." Andy watched the kid shift nervously. He fought the urge to smirk at him. "But just because I didn't do it doesn't mean that I didn't want to. That is the point, Rusty. That is what being an alcoholic means. You don't get over it. You're not cured. You don't go into rehab thinking that you're never going to drink again. You do it thinking that you're not going to drink right now. You do it thinking that you need to know how to not drink right now. Rusty… your biological mother isn't thinking about not drinking tomorrow. She's too busy thinking about not drinking today."

His gaze dropped. Rusty frowned as he thought about that. _I'm not drinking today_. His mother had said that to him several times since getting out of rehab and jail this last time. Now he understood why. Rusty chewed on the corner of his lip. He rubbed his damp palms against his jean-clad thighs. He looked up at Andy, eyes narrowed. "What did you do?" His head tilted. "How did you not… you know, stop and get a bottle?"

Andy scratched the bridge his nose before rubbing his jaw. "I went to a meeting instead. I called my sponsor…" He offered a half shrug. "Then I thought about everything that I've got to lose if I did. My job, my kids, your mother. I wanted a drink, Rusty, but I know there are things that I want more. _That_ is what being sober for twenty years has taught me. But even I can't say that it's always going to be enough. Some day I might want that bottle more than I want anything else. Today I don't."

"But it won't happen?" Rusty was confused now. He turned slowly and followed Andy with his gaze as the older man went back into the kitchen. He was more confused now than he ever was before. "You haven't in twenty years, right? So why would it happen now?"

"Because it did." Andy sighed as he lifted three napkins and the cutlery and carried them into the dining room. "It did happen, Rusty. I'm not saying that it happens for everyone, but, you know, most of us slip at least once. We never know when, and we can never tell you why. It just happens. So yeah, your mother might start drinking or using again. She might not. She might slip once and never do it again. Or she might slip and never come back. We don't know. We can't know. Hell, even _she_ can't know. The thing is, even though we know that it can happen we can't live every day expecting it to. There are some things that you just have to take on faith. You have to believe in something bigger than yourself and bigger than your addiction and trust that when it gets really tough, it will get you through. That it will give you the wisdom and the strength to know how to wade through the bullshit and get to the other side without falling. But if you fall…" He grew silent for a moment. Andy stared at the table. Finally he cast a look at the kid and smiled grimly, "well, when you fall you have to trust that it will help lift you back up again."

"Wait. I don't…" Rusty shook his head. He shifted where he stood and waved a hand at the other man. "You slipped? Like, actually got drunk? But… when? I mean…" It was intensely personal and he felt bad for asking, but his mother was moving in with this guy. They were going to be living with him, and Rusty knew Sharon well enough to know that if she had made that decision then she was in, for good. It wasn't just going to be about sharing a house and bills. This was for life. "Does… I mean… what?"

He was stuttering. Andy fought the urge to roll his eyes. He scratched a thumb across his forehead and finished setting the table instead. That was Sharon's doing. Five years ago the kid would have just come right out and said exactly what was on his mind. There were times when he still did. He thought through it most of the time, though, and Andy knew that was a credit to who the kid wanted to be as much as it was Sharon's influence. Andy decided to take pity on him. "It happened about twenty years ago. I was two years sober." He stopped and squinted as he thought back. "Or was it three?" Hell that was a long time ago, it just made him feel old. "Two or three years sober," he decided and waved a hand through the air. "I was out with some guys. They were drinking, and as had become usual, I was the driver. I didn't mind it, I still don't. I didn't drink while I was with them, oh no, I did that all alone. You see, I got to thinking that because I was out with them all night and didn't touch a drop, I must not be that much of a drunk. I could handle a drink or two. So after I dropped them off, I stopped at an old watering hole of mine. One drink became two, then three, and…" He shrugged, because it hadn't stopped until he was stumbling out to climb into the back of his car and sleep it off after the bartender had taken his keys.

Rusty ran a hand over his face and into his hair. Of all the things they had talked about in the past, he had never heard this story before. "Why did you never say anything?" He knew that he could feel betrayed, but there was a voice in the back of his head reminding him that this was not about _him_ , and it sounded like an odd cacophony of Sharon, Doctor Joe, and Gus.

"Rusty…" Andy gestured helplessly. He didn't know how to explain it. Finally he tossed his hands up and walked over to take a seat at the bar. He slumped on one of the stools. "When you get out of rehab, if you're lucky, your friends and family embrace you. When you slip after the fact, most of the time, they shut the door in your face. Especially when you screwed them over the first time around. Aside from my sponsor and the people at my AA meeting the next day, there's only one other person who knows about it."

"Lieutenant Provenza?" Rusty guessed. They were the keeper of each other's darkest secrets so it stood to reason if anyone knew it would be the other Lieutenant.

"No." The answer came from behind him. Sharon had been standing in the hall, just out of view, listening to them for the last few minutes. She knew that what Andy was speaking of was hard and intensely personal, and while she made a mental note to talk to Rusty about prying where it wasn't warranted, she thought that just maybe he needed to hear this. For that reason she would allow it to continue. Sharon walked into the room and stopped at the end of the bar. She shared a long look with Andy. She saw nothing in his gaze but concern. When she tilted her head at him in askance, his attention moved to Rusty. A small smile curved her lips before she turned back to her son.

"No," Sharon said again, "that other person would be me." She watched Rusty's brow knit together in a tighter frown and continued before he could go on the defensive, thinking that she had knowingly brought an _active_ addict into their lives. "The old watering hole that Andy spoke about was a favorite of Jack's too. It was where the two of them met. At six the following morning when Jack wasn't home yet, I knew where to look. After I took the kids to school I went looking for him. It wouldn't be the first time that he ended up passed out in a corner of the bar, or in his car outside." She spoke plainly, despite the pain that those old memories still managed to inflict. Ricky was only in elementary school then. Jack had already left them twice. Their home was already a revolving door for him. Sharon pushed it all aside and folded her arms across her chest. "I found Sergeant Flynn sleeping it off in his car instead." She looked at Andy again and they shared a sad look. He was in quite the state when she found him, but she didn't have to tell Rusty that. There were some things that they could keep to themselves.

They were doing that thing. Rusty rolled his eyes. He hated when they did that. Nothing was being said, but they knew what each other was thinking. It could go on for an hour if he let it. Instead he walked over and pulled one of the chairs at the table around. He sat in it while they finished thinking about whatever it was that they were thinking about. "So what did you do?"

She could hear the impatience in his tone. She watched Andy look away, fighting a smile, and turned her gaze back to Rusty. He could be about as subtle as a bull in a china shop. Sharon arched a brow at him. She stared until he slumped a bit, duly chastised. "I drove him to a meeting. Then I drove him home. I told him to get cleaned up and be in my office by noon."

Andy snorted. She was leaving out a few choice phrases that she might have used on him. He looked heavenward when he felt Sharon's gaze on him. "I showed up expecting to have to turn in my badge. The Lieutenant," he slanted a look at her, dark eyes sparkling at memories of what she had been like before her last promotion, "gave me a card instead. James Richardson. He was a counselor at an outpatient program for addicts."

"I knew him from church," Sharon explained. "James wrapped his car around a tree a decade before. His daughter was in the car with him. He was drinking, and she was paralyzed. He avoided jail on a technicality, but living with what he had done was a far worse punishment than anything that the state could have derived. He went to rehab and when he got out, he became a counselor for those battling addiction. He didn't have much luck with Jack, but a person has to want to be helped before you can help them." She looked at Andy again. There was a wealth of emotion in her gaze, pride and love at the forefront. "I had never seen a sorrier excuse for a detective than when this one walked into my office with his head hanging, badge in his hand, expecting to be dismissed. I didn't have to tell him what he had done. He already knew. So I sent him to James."

"He's been my sponsor ever since." His voice was thick with emotion. Andy didn't look away from her. He was always grateful for that. Whatever else he said about her over the years, she could have had his badge if she wanted it, but as she had explained it that day, he hadn't done anything wrong. The woman knew the rules better than anyone else he had ever met. He wasn't on duty when he crawled into that bottle. She excused him from work before he was late. He didn't show up with a hangover because of that fact. It didn't mean they suddenly became friends, hell no. They had fought like cats and dogs over the next couple of decades. They had seen each other at their best and worst and it had gotten down right ugly at times. That was professional. It was about the job. It wasn't about _them_. He had never thrown it in her face that her husband was a deadbeat son of a bitch that would rather be anywhere else, and she had never called him a worthless drunk. He wasn't a fool, Andy knew that Sharon was probably the last person that should take a chance on him, but she was. He also knew that made him pretty damned lucky.

Although it was hard, Andy drew his gaze away from her. He looked at Rusty again. "I'm not saying that it will happen. I'm saying that it can happen. Only your other mother knows what gets her through each day. Only she can decide what she's strong enough to handle."

"If you treat her as though she will fail," Sharon said quietly, "the chances are that she will. That doesn't mean that she will succeed if you support her. No one knows what is going to happen, but it isn't our place to make these decisions, Rusty." She took a step forward when he stood again and laid a hand on his arm. She wished that she could make this simpler for him, but she couldn't. "Pressuring your mother into a decision that she doesn't want to make is no good for any of you. I know that you want to do the right thing, but sometimes all that you can do is be patient and supportive."

"But…" Rusty started to launch into all of the same arguments that he had been using for months but stopped when Sharon's brows rose. She had heard it all. They had been over this a hundred times or more. "It's just…" He trailed off again and threw his hands up in exasperation.

"Thinking in hypotheticals will get you nowhere," Sharon pointed out. "Rusty, you cannot live your life only wondering what will go wrong. What about all of the things that could go right?"

His shoulders slumped. Rusty shook his head at her. "I just don't see how that is possible, Sharon. If Andy can fall off the wagon after a few years, and still want a drink after twenty, then how can my mom stay sober and have a kid when it hasn't even been one year? Kids are hard!"

The corners of her mouth twitched but Sharon managed to suppress the smile. That didn't stop her eyes from sparkling. "Yes they are," she agreed. "Being a parent does not come with an instruction manual, Rusty. Nor does it come with a safety net. If you are very lucky it may come with a support system. Most of the time, we simply do the best that we can and hope that we come out on the other end with children that are better for all of the mistakes that we have made. Some of us do okay, and some of us fail miserably. Some of us are not meant to be parents at all, and others who might well be very good at it never get the chance at all." Sharon laid her hands on his shoulders and marveled that he just stared back at her when a few years ago he would have flinched at the contact. "You can worry about tomorrow Rusty, but not at the expense of today. Don't wake up in ten years regretting what you didn't do for the sake of what might have gone wrong." Sharon gave his shoulders a squeeze before she let her hands slide away from his arms and fall back to her sides.

"Yeah." How could Rusty argue with that? Sharon was probably right. Actually, she was almost always right, so he knew better than to argue anyway. That didn't set his mind immediately at rest, though. Rusty drew a breath and let it out slowly. "Look, I know that I said that I would eat with you guys," he glanced toward the table as he spoke. "But actually, maybe I should…" He gestured toward the door and shrugged. Rusty gave her a sheepish look. The reason that his date with Gus was cancelled was because they had argued. Gus was tired of hearing him complain about all of the mistakes that his mother was making and just how wrong it could all go. Now Rusty was thinking that he should go and talk to him about it.

"Go ahead." Sharon smiled at him. She clasped her hands in front of her and tilted her head. She cast a quick look at Andy who shrugged. "I think we will be just fine on our own."

"I'm sure." Rusty rolled his eyes as he turned. He headed toward the door and it was on the tip of his tongue to tell them that he would text before he came home, but he didn't want to think about why texting was a necessary thing these days, and he sure didn't want to talk about it.

Sharon waited until Rusty had gone before she turned where she stood. She rolled her eyes heavenward and took a step forward. When Andy caught her arm and tugged her toward him, she laughed. Her arms slipped around his shoulders as she was pulled to stand between his legs. "Okay, so maybe it will just be the two of us tonight."

"That's what it looks like." His arms moved around her waist. He held her in a loose embrace. His brows rose in askance. "How much of that did you hear?"

"Last Thursday night?" She watched him look away with a grimace but she cupped his cheek and drew his gaze back. "I know who you are. I did not come in to this blind, Andy." They had talked about it a number of times. It was one of the reasons, a huge one actually, that she had insisted that they move so slowly as their relationship changed and grew. She shared his concerns. She knew that she could wake up one day and lose the man that she loved because he wanted a drink more than he wanted her, more than he wanted his job, or his relationship with his children and grandchildren. She knew that it could happen. It wasn't that she had chosen to believe that it wouldn't, but it was as Andy had said, she had chosen to believe in something stronger and bigger than both of them. She had faith that even when they could not clearly see their way, they would find their path. She chose to believe that if he did tumble into the bottle again, she would have the strength to help him climb out of it. She loved him that much. Her thumb traced the familiar curve of his cheek, and then his jaw. "You know your limitations. You know when you need help. Neither of us knows what is going to happen tomorrow or next week." Her gaze drifted a bit. "We have more yesterdays than we have tomorrows. More memories and regrets than dreams." She felt his hands settle on her hips and lifted her gaze again. "You are here right now. While I want tomorrow, and next week, and next year, and so many other things… Tonight is what I have."

"Then tonight is what you'll get." He would never have the words to tell her exactly what she meant to him. Words weren't his strength anyway, that was Sharon's thing. What he had were actions. He could show her, and he hoped like hell that she knew just how deep his feelings ran. Like his kids, and their kids, she was his tomorrow. He didn't think about not drinking, or not dying, or anything else. When he thought of the future, he thought of them. He thought of her. He thought of the life that they both wanted. It was a life that he hoped that he could hold on to, but as he told Rusty, he couldn't say what would happen. He just had to believe, and work, and try to be stronger than his demons. It was all that any of them could do.

Andy stood but kept her in the circle of his arms. His lips touched the corner of her mouth. When she hummed, he smiled. Soon he wouldn't have to make the drive in from Valencia to spend time with the woman that was occupying such a large part of his heart. She was already home to him. Yeah, he'd told Rusty that he thought about everything he stood to lose if he took that drink. That was why he'd called her last Thursday night, as he was driving home, after his meeting and after talking to his sponsor. He told her that he was falling asleep and needed her to help him keep his eyes open until he got home. The truth was, the sound of her voice reminded him of the way that she was looking at him now, even as they had talked about real estate listings, annoying agents, and terrible landscaping. Reluctance to move forward had given way to hope, and there was hope in her gaze now. She knew better than to have faith in him, but hope, that was something else entirely. It was something that he held on to, even when he couldn't hold on to her.

Sharon's arms moved around his middle. She turned her face into his neck and settled against him with a sigh. He was warm and he was comfortable. She had wanted this all day, and now that he was holding her, she felt herself relax completely. "Thank you," she said quietly. "One day Rusty will understand how much you gave him tonight."

"It's okay." They swayed a bit as he held her. He turned his face into her hair; it smelled of gardenias, with a hint of something else that he couldn't quite place. A new perfume, maybe? He would find out later. "I wish my kids had someone to explain all this when we were first going through it. I'm glad to do it."

"I know." She lifted her head and smiled up at him. He didn't do it for her, he never did. "I can tell him everything that might go wrong. I can't tell him everything that could go right."

"I know." She had never lived on this end of addiction. In a way, Sharon was figuring it out too. Andy reminded himself of that when her reluctance frustrated him. It didn't always work, but he did it. The rest of the time, he just reminded himself that she was worth waiting for. That always did the trick. "He'll be okay." Rusty would figure it out. He just had to work his head around it for a while. He would drive them all crazy in the process, but he would get there in the end.

"Yes." She slipped her hands up his chest. "So will we." Her fingers curled around his suspenders. Sharon glanced toward the table. Her lips pursed for a moment before she looked up at him again. Her brows rose and her eyes gleamed. "Exactly how hungry are you?"

Andy followed her gaze to the table. "Hm." He glanced toward the kitchen. Dinner was still in the oven, where he had placed it when he got there to keep it warm. He looked down at her. His bottom lip jutted out while he thought about it. "It'll keep."

Sharon rolled her eyes at him, even as a wide smile curved her lips. She stepped backward and out of his arms. She pulled him with her. "We really need to get you some new lines," she teased.

"Why?" He shrugged. "The old ones worked just fine." When she turned away from him, he curled an arm around her waist and tugged her backward. His face turned into her neck. That laugh, the low and throaty one that floated on the air around them, a sound that he had come to recognize as being reserved just for him, that was his tomorrow. It wasn't all that he needed, but it was a damned good place to start.

 **~FIN**


End file.
